


Chilled to the Bone, Shaken to the Core

by Inkblot9



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: During Canon, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Resolution, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkblot9/pseuds/Inkblot9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tintin and the Captain should have been taking the time they had to rest to do just that, but thoughts and emotions rarely pay attention to schedules. Amidst the terrors of the Tibetan mountains, certain feelings are brought forward at last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chilled to the Bone, Shaken to the Core

All Haddock wanted was to go home, to return to Marlinspike safe and unharmed, but he knew he would not go if Tintin would not come with him.  
  
This whole search, in his view, had shown sheer madness on both of their parts even before they left their pleasant holiday in the Alps. For weeks on end, they had been defying all that was possible for a boy who should have been dead long since. And now they were lurking outside a yeti's cave, of all things; they were simply anticipating the rearing of its bulbous head, the opportunity to dash inside the hole in the rock-face, to swoop in and rescue this Chang character, and then make their respective ways home.  
  
One might think it ought to be _easy_ , the way Tintin persisted. One might think it was all completely _normal_ , the way he insisted upon the validity of his supposed newfound telepathy and the probability of anyone surviving out there. It was a wonder the two of them had not dropped dead yet. Heaven knew they had come dangerously close.

The way the lad was facing it all, relentlessly optimistic in the face of cruel reality, was nothing short of inspiring. Or infuriating. One of the two, depending on the hour. Perhaps both. Haddock could no longer tell. The cold had numbed his mind as well as his hands, and to crown it all, he was out of whiskey. Even Tintin's emergency flask of brandy had been drained long ago—by Archibald Haddock himself, of course. On some level, both of them knew that " _for emergencies_ " really meant " _for stretching the limits of the Captain's motivation to follow a certain somebody else in his hare-brained schemes_ ". He was beyond grateful, now, for the tent and the chance to rest his weary old bones.  
  
Tintin was out of his mind, and so Haddock was as well: for no matter what he might say, he knew he would follow that boy anywhere. And it was here in these forsaken mountains that he had realized why.

* * *

Tibet was cold, hellishly cold. Tibet was frustrating beyond belief. Tibet, frankly, was terrifying. Tintin was chilled to the bone, exhausted beyond words, and ricocheting haplessly in a storm of emotion the likes of which he had never before experienced.

 _What is wrong with me?_ he wondered, not for the first time. What was it that constantly drove him to such lengths to seek, to battle, to protect, in the manner of a pint-sized Hercules? It had been nothing but pride, stubbornness, and denial fueling him for weeks now. He had deluded himself into thinking the trek was for the sake of his bond with Chang and nothing more, but he was not the only person who cared for that boy. Even his doting adoptive family had accepted that he was dead, that he _had_ to be dead, that no one could have possibly survived such a disaster, that anyone would be insane to go after him…  
  
But now that he had faced and conquered those near-insurmountable odds, now that he was so close, so _close_ , he could not possibly stop himself. In life as in his news articles, Tintin was nothing if not _thorough_.  
  
He had heard the claims of his madness over and over, mainly from the man lying next to him at that very moment. Dear Captain Haddock, who had followed him for thousands of miles in spite of all his declarations to the contrary. The young man could not cloak a sigh of admiration as he thought of his companion, nor could he stop the welling of tears in his eyes as he remembered, relived, yet again:  
  
 _Better for one to die, rather than two, isn't it? Cut the rope, Tintin!_  
  
After everything Tintin had carelessly, selfishly, put him through, the Captain had been instantly willing to sacrifice his life for him, for the sake of a journey he never supported.

 _Never! Either we're both saved or we die together!_  
  
Had the Captain succeeded, had he cut the rope clean through, Tintin would have come down with him, he was certain. What sort of life could he possibly live, if he had watched his friend die for all the wrong reasons? That combined with the turmoil he was already feeling…no, he surely could not have survived it all. He silently thanked all the goodness in the world and the heavens above for Sherpa Tharkey's impeccable timing.  
  
Once they regained safe footing at last, the Captain had said not a word. Instead, he had wrapped his thick, strong arms around Tintin and dissolved into heavy sobs: the first display of such a level of despair since the night the two met on the _Karaboudjan_. Neither Peru nor Borduria nor even the ill-fated Moon voyage had brought forth anything quite like that from either of them, and Tintin, the master of mysteries, had been struggling for days on end to determine what it could possibly mean.  
  
Tintin heard Haddock grunt and roll over, startling him from his musings. " _Eh, capitaine…?_ " he mumbled drowsily in response.  
  
"Tintin." The Captain raised his head. "You're still awake too, eh?"  
  
" _Oui…_ " The young man nodded, though nobody would see the gesture in the blackness. "Hush, Snowy," he added when the little terrier beside him yapped at the sudden commotion.  
  
"Well, that simply won't do," Haddock replied gruffly. "You've got to have your full wits about you tomorrow, if you're going to…to save poor Chang, yes?" The last few words left his voice strained and empty, which did not go unnoticed by his companion.  
  
"Captain, are you  _jealous_ of Chang? Of what I'm doing for him?" The question came before Tintin could stop it, before he could wonder if it was better left unsaid.  
  
"O-of course not!" the elder man spluttered. "Th-thundering typhoons, no. Why would I be? You're completely daft, I'll say it again…Traveling half the world for the sake of a dream…" Usually characterized by his boisterousness, Haddock now held his tone at little more than a pained whisper. "You clearly have something for him that you don't for anyone else."  
  
Tintin felt a sharp pang in his chest upon hearing those words. He reached for his rucksack and, after fumbling within it for a moment, found a flashlight. He switched it on, dimly illuminating the small green tent and the Captain, who had turned away from him.  
  
"Chang means very much to me, it's true," Tintin said. "He was my first true friend; he is my brother in all means but blood. I still believe he is alive, and I couldn't possibly live with myself if there was a chance to save him and I didn't take it, if he died because of me. But you—"  
  
"You're a stupid, stubborn boy," Haddock muttered, cutting him off. "You're a goddamn fool. And I'm an even bigger one, for falling in love with you."  
  
Tintin could swear he felt his heart stop. "You…you…what? You…you're in _love_ with me?" he echoed, stammering, in utter shock. " _I_ _n love_ with me. _Me_ , a man—a boy, really, a boy who—"  
  
"Oh, a billion bloody blistering barnacles." The Captain sat up in one frenzied movement. Tintin could see his face now, and it was panicked, streaked with tears.  
  
"Yes!" he exclaimed, nearly shouting, sobbing still. "Yes, I am! Damn it, confound it all, I love you, Tintin! There, I said it!"  
  
The boy's jaw fell open, and hung there, stupefied, as Haddock continued.  
  
"I've asked myself a thousand times over why I risk my neck for you like this, why I follow you wherever the hell you choose to go, why I couldn't leave you if I tried, why all I want is to be near you and all I need is for you to be safe. It's not just because you've saved my life over and over again. It's not just because you're the best friend I've ever had. It's because I've fallen heavy and hard for you, and now I belong to you and only you.  
  
"I told myself I wouldn't. I told myself that you were too young, too innocent, too pure to bear a burden the likes of myself. That falling in love again would only lead to more heartache and more bottles to drown in.  
  
"But I can no longer deny it. When I'm with you, I'm happier than I've ever been before. I'm powerless to resist you, but stronger than anything when I'm beside you. You…you're the most precious thing in the world, the most amazing person I've ever known. I want nothing more than to hold you, to kiss you, to protect you and cherish you and never let you go. I've never been more sure of  _anything_  in my whole blasted existence. Tintin. My lad. My hero. My light. I love you."  
  
"Captain," Tintin whispered gently after a pause. His companion was breathing heavily, appalled at his own raw emotion.  
  
"Oh, God, I…I didn't mean to go on so…I'm sorry, laddie, I…"  
  
"Captain, you didn't let me finish," the younger man continued, wearing a comforting smile on his face.  
  
Still shaking, Haddock looked back up.  
  
"What you said earlier was true," Tintin began. "What I feel for Chang I feel only for him. And yet, for you I've got something else. Something strong, something new and passionate that's shaken me to my very core. I've thought about a lot these past weeks. About Chang, of course; but also about myself, and about you. I _am_ a stubborn idiot, I know, and yet you've stood by me through so much of it. There is no doubt in my mind that I would be long dead now were it not for you. My feelings about all of that, though, run far deeper than simple gratitude.  
  
"When you were hanging over that cliff, I knew in an _instant_ that if you went down, I would follow you down. I'd rather die with you than live in a world without you. I can no longer even _imagine_ a world without you. You've become more to me than I ever thought possible. You enchant me, you amaze me, you make me smile, you drive me mad. So blind I am, I didn't understand it till now—that though I might've avoided falling to my doom in these devilish mountains, I still fell. I fell in love…with you."

Haddock began to smile, in spite of himself and his continuing tears. He had not permitted himself to consider the possibility that his feelings might be reciprocated, but here, hearing the notion from Tintin's own mouth, he believed it. The reporter had a great many qualities, _audacity_ and _irrationality_ likely among them; but the Captain had never known him to be _insincere_.  
  
"Dearest…oh, darling, I…I never thought I'd hear you say—I'm dreaming, aren't I?" Haddock's grin widened and he laughed, utterly hysterical yet utterly relieved. "I'm dreaming, or else I'm thundering _drunk_ again!"  
  
"Well, I certainly hope not," Tintin whispered back, feeling himself choke up as well. He reached for the hands of his companion and clasped them tight.  
  
"I, I just…" Haddock went on, unable to stop smiling. "…I thought for a moment there I'd ruined everything we had. I couldn't imagine you'd ever want an old salt like me."  
  
"Oh, Captain," Tintin sighed, "I couldn't stand to have anyone else."  
  
A few moments passed, relief and passion filling the air.  
  
"Y-you know," the Captain said finally, "no one else can know…about this."  
  
"That's absurd," Tintin spat back.  
  
"It is, of course it is, but you understand why, don't you?"  
  
The young man nodded solemnly, overwhelmed with vehemence. He wanted to hide his face in embarrassment, but he could not bring himself to let go of his Captain's hands.  
  
"We'll make it work, somehow, don't you fret," Haddock murmured. "Let's save your friend and get back home, and then…we'll work it out. We always do, don't we, in the end?"  
  
A short laugh escaped with Tintin's breath, showing that he agreed.  
  
"That's that, then?" The Captain brought his face to meet his beloved's. "We'll be lovers, you and I? I'll be yours, and…and you'll be mine?"  
  
Tintin felt a new surge of hope rising within him at the intimate touch from the man he adored. Something greater than reason reminded him, again, that they would be just fine.  
  
"Yes," he replied, with utmost certainty. "Absolutely. I'd like nothing better."  
  
They inched closer to each other until their lips met in a delicate kiss, a kiss that represented a promise, to maintain what they had and to continue building upon it. Truly, they had been doing so for years already. This was only the next inevitable step on the greatest journey of their lives.  
  
They slept in each other's arms for the remainder of the night.

* * *

"All's well that ends well," the Captain had said after the discovery of Rackham's treasure years ago, and yet again that statement was proving to be true.  
  
The trek out of the mountains was significantly easier than the journey _into_ the treacherous Himalayan peaks. The feelings of joy and faith that resonated among the party certainly helped that along, and the generous honors bestowed upon them by the monks didn't hurt either.  
  
Haddock found that Tintin had not been exaggerating in the least when he spoke of Chang's virtue. The lads were two of a kind: steadfast, caring, honest and brave.

The Captain couldn't help but share their happiness as the young men reunited. As their trip home commenced, he only grew more endeared to the Chinese and the relationship between him and the Belgian. They definitely had something special, something strong and true, the purest of friendships.  
  
Ironically enough, it was seeing the two together that caused Haddock's lingering jealousy to fade. Gone was the stress of his seemingly-unrequited affection and the idea that he had been replaced. He might as well be jealous of Snowy! Tintin had plenty of love to go around in that Great Heart of his. One need not take precedence over another. Tintin might have traversed half the globe for Chang, but Haddock no longer doubted the little journalist would do the same for him and more. It was a comfort, to say the least.  
  
Chang himself had recognized the Captain immediately from the descriptions of the man in Tintin's past letters. Not only that, but he seemed to sense—and _respect_ —the bond between his old friend and his new acquaintance.  
  
"You care for him deeply, don't you?" he had asked Tintin one night in the monastery.  
  
"That I do," Tintin had replied, with a bow of his head and a rush to his cheeks.  
  
And with that, nothing more needed to be said. Chang was a brother indeed.  
  
Before much longer, all of the perils of the past weeks would be nothing more than memory. The pains left in the bodies of men and dog would heal. They would return home to their families and dear comrades. Time would pass on as it always did.  
  
Though the circumstances were far from what they might have wanted, not _everything_ that had happened in Tibet was terrible. Tintin and Chang had found each other again, and in their own way, Tintin and Haddock had done the same.  
  
The cold was gone. Love was what would remain.


End file.
